


We Were Together

by gingergallifreyan



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Doomsday, End of Time, F/M, Fires of Pompeii, Fluff, I'm Sorry, I'm so sorry, Journey's End, Regeneration, Waters of Mars, sad doctor, sad sad doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergallifreyan/pseuds/gingergallifreyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A two-part exploration of the Tenth Doctor’s relationship with Rose. First, with a series of vignettes of the times he almost said those three words; then an exploration of what happened after the second visit to Bad Wolf Bay until his regeneration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vignettes and Variations on Evasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I attended the St. Louis Wizard World con in 2016. During David and Billie’s joint panel, a fan requested that David turn to Billie and say – without pause – “Rose Tyler, I love you.” David and Billie provided some alternative responses, which were GOLD and begging to be fic’d.

“Rose Tyler—“ he paused.

The Doctor and Rose had just returned to the TARDIS from a dangerous adventure on the planet Analax. They had nearly brushed death yet again when the Doctor managed to pull her from the gripping claws of the monsters.

They had found themselves wrapped in an intense embrace, both needing the comfort of touch from the other to ease their nerves. The thought of losing her terrified him and he clung to her as if his hearts beating depended on her. He had pulled back slightly so he could look at her when he began what Rose thought might be an admittance of what he felt for her, words she had been longing to hear since that night in front of the diner. 

That had been the first time he nearly said it, and the depth of his feelings for her both excited and terrified him. He grew fond of his previous companions, even fiercely protective, to be sure, and he would venture to say that he fancied a few, but he loved Rose Tyler. He felt deep affection, tempered with gratitude for bringing him back to life after the slow death of his soul during the Time War. He was also terrified of being that close to another living being, and terrified at the thought of what he might become if he ever lost her.

Ever since the night that he nearly let his tongue slip the first time, their relationship became a dance, teetering on a tightrope of deep, affectionate friendship on one side and something more on the other.

“Yes, Doctor?” answered Rose, waiting with baited breath.

He nervously averted her gaze, eyes landing on her torn collar, arms releasing her waist, and hand immediately pulling at his earlobe. “Can I, erm, borrow your jacket?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You…want to borrow my jacket? But the pockets aren’t nearly as handy as the ones in your coat.” She released her arms from him as well.

“I want to borrow your jacket. Yes, your collar, it must have been torn while you were trying to escape the grip of that Analaxian. I want to take it to Renursia, home of the finest seamstress this side of the galaxy. I know how much you love this jacket, and she’d be able to stitch it up, and you’d never be able to tell it was torn in the first place!” He turned to the console and began flipping the levers. He did not look at her again. “You know,” he added, “she made a lovely multi-colored coat for me once, as a token of thanks for saving her village. Decided to sport it a few regenerations ago. A fine coat it was for the time.”

She broke her gaze, moved to sit on the jump seat, and distracted herself with the pattern of the grating on the console room floor. She wouldn’t push him to declare how he felt, of which she had some inkling. She hoped he would express that in his own time, but that didn’t mean his evasion didn’t leave her feeling at least a little wanting.

***

They sat in the galley of the TARDIS. The Doctor was acting a bit unusual, as he had made her a full breakfast, an act saved for the rarest of occasions. When she had woken up that morning, he was sitting on her bed, and he flashed his best grin at her and grabbed her by the hand to pull her down the corridor to the breakfast table. 

She smiled at him as she sipped her tea, hummed in appreciation, and wondered what he was up to.

“Rose Tyler—“ he paused.

She thought he might have finally worked up the courage to say how he felt. 

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Well,” he pulled at his earlobe again, “erm, I…I broke your hair curlers.” 

Her face fell slightly. “What were you doing with my hair curlers?” she asked.

“I may have tried to borrow them yesterday morning as an emergency thermal conductor circuit for the console. When we visited the market yesterday, I then acquired an actual thermal conductor circuit and thought I might have been able to reassemble your curlers, good as new, and return them without you knowing, but it turns out they didn’t quite fit as well as I thought and the plastic melted and I’m so sorry, Rose.”

She sighed. “You could have just asked me, and I would have been happy to let you borrow them. Is this why you made me breakfast?”

He reached for her hand with both of his from across the table. “Primarily, yes, but also because you’ve been so wonderful, and I love traveling with you, and Rose, I—“ he paused again.

She waited for him to continue. Surely he would say it now.

“I just wanted to thank you, is all. Right then,” he shifted in his seat, released her hand from his, and then stood up and walked towards the door, “I’ll leave you to breakfast. I’m going to take you to New Holland today. We’ll be just in time for the annual tulip festival. They grow the most gorgeous blooms in brilliant hues you’ve never seen on Earth! And you definitely don’t want to miss my clogging. In fact, I’m going to warm up right now. See you in a bit.” He turned down the corridor without looking back at her.

Her hand hadn’t moved from where he’d released it. She rolled her eyes a bit and smiled, and rested that hand under her chin as she enjoyed her breakfast. It was a bit amusing, the way she was able to make him uncomfortable.

***

They were in her bedroom. He was sitting with his back against her headboard, and she was lying down on her side next to him.

Every now and then, during their downtime, she asked him to read her a story. She loved a good adventure book, but even more she loved watching the faces he’d make and hearing the different voices he’d use as he brought the characters to life off the page. He was an excellent reader, a master storyteller. 

He finished the story and removed his glasses, setting the book on her nightstand. He adjusted his position so he was lying down and he turned on his side to face her. His eyes met hers, and the sight left him breathless. He would never tire of getting lost in her deep, hazel eyes.

She moved her hand to cup his neck and jawline, her thumb rubbing his right sideburn. Deep affection welled up within him.

“Rose Tyler—“ he paused.

“Yes, Doctor?” She asked.

“I—“

His eyes shifted, moving past her to the open door of her bathroom, eyes growing wide with excitement. 

“I like your bathroom set!” He sat up, left the bed and walked around to the doorway. “Is this what you purchased at the market on Brillium today?”

She gave a half smile and shook her head to herself.

***

He hung from a thick wire ten miles below the surface of the impossible planet, suspended above a deep, black pit.

She was above ground in a space station, stranded beneath a hungry black hole.

The broken comms left them with no means of contacting each other.

The wire from which he hung afforded him no more length to descend. Only one option remained: plunge into the depths. He began to detach the clips that held him to the wire. He and Ida discussed their beliefs, as a matter of some comfort for her as he knew he was about to leave her and a matter of contemplation of his life, an appropriate response to his possible impending death.

One final thought stuck at the forefront of his mind as he beheld the last clip.

“If they get back in touch, if you talk to Rose, just tell her—“ he paused. 

Ida waited for him to finish.

He thought of Rose’s eyes, her touch, her scent.

“Tell her—“

Her smile and the way her tongue peeks out from behind her teeth, the way her hand fits in his when they run, the way she fits in his arms after an adventure.

It wouldn’t have been right to tell her this way. He needed to tell her face-to-face. He thought of the way he evaded her again in their earlier conversation about being stuck together. He felt regret. He would have given anything in that moment to be stuck with her, as long as it meant being by her side for the rest of her life. It would have been the most wonderful adventure in the universe, even at the cost of a mortgage and a job.

But she has to know, doesn’t she? He tried to tell her with his actions, because how could he contain his love for her in those three simple words? He tried to tell her in the way he wanted to impress her with all the wonders of the universe, though none held a candle to the way her eyes lit up when she beheld a new sight. He tried to tell her in the way he held her hand and in the way he wrapped his arms around her. He tried to tell her in the way he said her name, each syllable rolling so easily off his tongue, as if his mouth was made just for the purpose of saying it. He tried to tell her in the way he could not refuse to fulfill her requests when she rested her chin on his shoulder and she smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. He tried to tell her in the way he would gaze at her when she wasn’t looking, his eyes memorizing the way she walked and every curve of her face.

She had to know, right?

“Oh, she knows.” He unclipped the last connection and plummeted. 

Rose’s voice buzzed over the comms, her voice desperate to hear his, only a second too late. “Doctor, are you there? Doctor, Ida, can you hear me? Are you there, Doctor?” 

Ida, scared of the prospect of dying alone, answered quietly, “He’s gone.” 

Rose paused. “What do you mean he’s gone?” 

“He fell...into the pit. And I don’t know how deep it is, miles and miles and miles.” 

Rose blinked in disbelief, her mind swimming to make sense of Ida’s statement. “What do you mean, he fell?”

“I couldn’t stop him.” Ida paused to take a breath, trying to temper the anxiety that seized her, but she was determined to honor the Doctor’s last request. “He said your name.”

Rose swallowed. Denial flooded her mind. He’s not dead. He can’t be.

“I’m sorry,” the captain offered. 

Rose breathed hard.

The captain’s voice faded as he talked to Ida, “There’s no way of reaching you. No cable, no backup…” She vaguely heard him mention that they had to leave her behind.

She snapped back to reality as the captain instructed the crew to close up the station. “I’m not going,” she said, resolutely.

The captain, filled with regret for losing crew members, refused to lose somebody else. “Rose, there’s space for you.” It’s what the Doctor would have wanted after all.

Rose stood her ground. “No, I’m going to wait for the Doctor, just like he’d wait for me.”   

The captain shook his head and offered again, “I’m sorry, but he’s dead.”

Rose shook her head in defiance of that thought. “You don’t know him. ‘Cause he’s not.” She fought tears. She believed in him with every fiber of her being. “I’m telling you, he’s not.” She fought the notion to even entertain the possibility of his death. “And even if he was, how could I leave him, all on his own, all the way down there?” She gathered new resolve. “No, I’m…I’m gonna stay.”

He nodded. “Then I apologize for this. Danny, Toby, make her secure.” 

She tried to fight them off. They had to sedate her. 

 ***

They were on a cold, windy beach. He was an image, a projection, and she was unable to touch him.

He had managed to find one tiny little gap in the universe, not quite big enough for the TARDIS to go through. He would have ripped the universes apart to get back to her, but the TARDIS wouldn’t let him, and he threw out her manual into the burning star in defiance. Eventually, after he had finished raging at the universe and his blue box, they compromised and he settled for burning up a sun to send a message through.

He saw her as she walked on the beach towards him. His hearts clenched at the sight of his Rose, feeling life inside of him for the first time in three months and dread that this would be the last time he could ever see her.

He turned up the power derived from the supernova so he could send his projection through. 

She turned to see him. He smiled.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Inside the TARDIS. There’s one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close.  It takes a lot of power to send this projection. I’m in orbit around a supernova. I’m burning up a sun just to say goodbye.”

She shook her head. “You look like a ghost.”

“Hold on.” He adjusted the settings on the console with his sonic screwdriver, not willing to leave his position on the grating for fear of losing the signal. 

His face was the saddest she’d ever seen.

She walked towards him and reached out her hand to cup his cheek to comfort him. “Can I—“

He stopped her before she would have been able to make contact. “I’m still just an image. No touch.”

“Can’t you come through properly?”

 “The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse.” He had tried. Oh, how he tried.

“So?” 

He smiled at her defiance. That was his Rose.  


“Where are we? Where did the gap come out?” he asked, taking in her surroundings.

“We’re in Norway.”

“Norway. Right.” He nodded, as if that should have been of some significance to him.

“About 50 miles out of Bergen. It’s called Dårlig Ulv-Stranden.” 

“Dalek?” he looked confused. What would he do if there were Daleks in Pete’s World?

“Dårlig,” she corrected, and he felt relief. “It’s Norwegian for ‘bad’.” His eyebrows furrowed with a slight suspicion at where this was leading. “It translates as Bad Wolf Bay.”  

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. He laughed, a bit bewildered. Rose was amazing. Her scattering of the words to lead her back to him knew no boundaries in all of time and space. Perhaps it was even the Bad Wolf herself, reaching through time, who had managed to hold open the last tiny little gap between the universes so they could say goodbye.

“How long have we got?”

“About two minutes.”  


She fought for words. “I can’t think of what to say.” They both laughed lightly.

What does one say in a moment like this? 

He looked at the Tylers on the other side of the beach. “You’ve still got Mr. Mickey then.” Perhaps she could move on and find happiness with someone else. The one thing he wanted for her hadn’t changed—he wanted her to have a fantastic life. And if she could never see him again, he wanted her to move on, even if he didn’t expect the same for himself. 

“There’s five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey…and the baby.”

 His eyes widened slightly. “You’re not…“

 She sort of enjoyed his shock. She let it hang for a moment. “No,” she laughed, “it’s Mum. She’s three months gone. More Tylers on the way.” 

Everyone was moving on. What about her? He desperately just wanted her to be happy. “What about you? What are you…”

“Yeah, I’m back working in the shop.” 

“Well, good for you.” He simply nodded with a slight smile.

 “Shut up.” She knew he was giving her a hard time. “Nah, I’m not. There’s still a Torchwood on this planet. It’s open for business.” She laughed slightly to help keep the tears back. “I think I know a thing or two about aliens.” 

He beamed with pride, a few tears starting for himself. “Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth.” 

“You’re dead, officially. Back home. So many people died that day and you’ve gone missing. You’re on a list of the dead.” He paused as he watched the tears streaming down her cheeks. He wished he could hold her hand to comfort her. “But here you are.” He smiled.  “Living a life, day after day, the one adventure I can never have.” The one adventure he wanted more than anything else in the universe.

She sobbed. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “You can’t.” Tears threatened.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ve got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.”

“On your own?” She hurt for him. Her greatest concern was who was going to hold his hand now?

He nodded. He didn’t want to travel with anybody. How could he, after traveling with Rose?

“I l—“ she paused.

Tears choked her. She took a deep breath. 

“I love you.”

“Quite right, too.” His hearts nearly leapt out of his chest at her declaration. He’d known it all along. He wished he had not waited so long to say it himself. It was now or never.

After all, what else could he say to the woman who had brought him back to life, who held both of his hearts with her one? He needed her to hear it. He was desperate not to leave it unsaid. 

“And, I suppose, if it’s my last chance to say it--” he paused, his hearts brimming over with love.

“Rose Tyler--“

 She faded from view before he could say those three words. He stood there, overwhelmed with grief that he would never see her again and he could not stop the tears from spilling over onto his cheeks.

She was left without the warmth of his embrace and his smile on that cold, windy beach.

***

They were on the beach again. The Doctor smiled as he watched Rose place a hand on the Metacrisis’ heart. They would be alright.

The TARDIS groaned and summoned the Doctor to leave before the walls of this universe closed forever. But he couldn’t leave. Rose Tyler, the love of his lives, summoned him and his Metacrisis to herself.

“When I last stood on this beach on the worst day of my life—“

His hearts clenched. He knew what was coming.  


“What was the last thing you said to me?” 

The lump in his throat and the threatening tears kept him from answering.

“Go on. Say it,” she pleaded. 

He swallowed hard. “I said, ‘Rose Tyler.’”

“Yeah? And how was that sentence going to end?” She longed to hear it.  


He couldn’t say it. Not now. If he said it, he’d never be able to leave. Their life together flashed through his mind. All the shared adventures, all the stolen glances, all the handholding, all the embraces, her promise of forever. He hated himself in that moment. He knew what she wanted to hear. He knew she deserved to hear it.

He knew he would have to break her heart. He hoped she would understand someday. “Does it need saying?”

Her face was incredulous. Her deep, hazel eyes, the ones in which he longed to lose himself, fought back tears and shut him out and he had to keep his hands in his pockets. It was all he could do to keep from wrapping her in his arms and burying his face in her neck and whispering “I’m so sorry,” to comfort her. 

After a moment, she turned to his Metacrisis. Yes, he was born in battle, full of blood and anger and revenge, but he was also born out of so much love for Rose. The Doctor knew he would help her understand.

The Doctor watched as she asked him, “And you? What was the end of that sentence?” Before she had finished the question, his hand reached out for her and he leaned in to whisper the words the Doctor had always longed to say himself.  


_I love you._

His hearts nearly beat out of his chest in regret and jealousy at never having been able to say the words himself. He swallowed back tears again as he watched her tug on the lapels of the man’s blue suit and they crashed together in a deep kiss. He turned away, unable to watch any longer, as the Metacrisis’ fists unclenched and his arms wrapped around her waist in desperation, her hands gripped around his neck and running through his hair.

The Doctor knew his Metacrisis would be able to say those words to Rose every morning as they woke up, every night before they fell asleep, as he was holding their children and he would lean over and kiss her temple. He knew his Metacrisis’ love would only grow deeper for the rest of his one life, the one adventure the Doctor could never have with Rose Tyler.

She heard the whoosh of the TARDIS as it left Pete’s World for the first and last time. She broke the kiss and walked toward the vanishing blue box and watched the Doctor fade from her life again. Then, after a moment, she felt that familiar hand, the same hand she loved to feel in hers, and looked up at her new new Doctor, and he looked at her, and it was the start of their forever, and his eyes said he would never evade those words again.


	2. Tyler Rose

“What the hell, why not?” The Doctor sniffed. “Why should I _not_ use the Randomiser again? Alright, Doctor. You’ve convinced me.” He clapped and thrust a finger in the air. “ _Allons-y_!” He hopped off the jump seat. “Let’s have bit of fun across time and space. I think I deserve a bit of fun after--”

The pain of losing his friends again was still fresh. Mickey, Jack, and Martha moved on to new adventures of their own. Sarah Jane returned to Luke and K-9 and Mr. Smith. 

Donna moved on with her life without any knowledge of their friendship. To her it never happened, at his own hands, even. He locked all of their memories in a safe place in her mind. His time sense told him she would need the Doctor Donna one more time and trusted that she would know when.  


Rose. His Rose. His heart twinged with jealousy at the thought of his Metacrisis living his life, day after day, with the love of his lives, the one adventure he could never have. Comfort tempered his heartbreak, knowing that she was alive and safe and could love him for the rest of her life. Regret swept over him as he knew it was necessary to break her heart. _Does it need saying?_ Of course it did, Doctor. He knew what he wanted and needed to say, what she wanted and needed to hear, but he also knew if he said it he would never be able to leave her on the beach. It was for her sake and his.

After dropping off Donna, he parked himself in the time vortex and collapsed on the jump seat. His superior Time Lord physiology forced him to shut down, much like a post-regenerative state. His grief had overtaken him and he rested for what seemed like days. Eventually, he emerged from his state of numbness and in true Doctor-avoidance-of-anything-painful fashion, he leapt from the jump seat, grabbed his brown jacket, buttoned it over his blue shirt, and circled the console, flipping levers and switches to set the TARDIS on a new course.

After enduring the few seconds of the painful memories, he moved to activate the Randomiser. Sparks shot from the console and the shock sent the Doctor reeling back to the railing. 

“Touchy, old girl, are we?” His eyebrows furrowed as he sucked on his fingers and looked up at the groaning green column.

The TARDIS lurched in response through the vortex and gave the customary _thud_ to signal the landing.

“Where have you brought me?” he wondered aloud to the machine, approaching the console again and swiveling the monitor around to check his location. Putting on his glasses, he read out, “ _2016, United States of America, State of Texas, City of Austin, Texas State Capitol._ Very specific,” he mused and removed his glasses. “You’re up to something. What’s up?” He raised an eyebrow at the central column. He sensed a meddling coming on.

The TARDIS hummed encouragingly. He loved his TARDIS, his one constant companion, but he knew she liked the inconvenient meddle on occasion. And, in the end, he knew she always knew what she was doing.

With trepidation, he headed down the grating and opened the doors.

He immediately recognized the scent of roses as it wafted over him and he saw a garden not too far from where they had parked.

“Oh, you’re _really_ having a go at me, aren’t you?” He turned and narrowed his eyes at the console. “Always ready to come through in a pinch, you are.” He pointed. “What on Gallifrey makes you think I need a reminder of--”

The TARDIS hummed again in response. 

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and stepped out, cream Converses striding onto the grass. He spotted a sign, similar to a historical marker, at the front of the garden and made his way over to it.

He began to read to himself: 

_Tyler Rose_

Tears prickled his eyes. The TARDIS hummed again. He blinked several times, swallowed, and continued.

_The Tyler Rose developed from a “native” rose planted by Cherokee Indians to mark tribal trails in the early 1800’s. The rose developed a hardy root system now grafted to create classical hybrids._

Rose marked the trails of his life. She was brilliant. She brought out the best of him.

When he was lost, soulless after the time war, living with the horror of how he had just destroyed his own planet and people as a last resort, he stumbled upon her. Her smile and curiosity brought some life back into his old bones.

When he told her he was the last of his kind, left to travel on his own, she reassured him, “There’s me.”

When he had a choice to make, to save the world but he could lose her, she courageously chose the world.

When he sent her away from the Game Station, she opened the heart of the TARDIS to get back to him, became the Goddess of Time, the Bad Wolf, and scattered those words throughout all of time and space to lead her back to him. He laid down that life for her and became his new self for her.

When they stood in front of the diner, he was confronted head-on with the reality that he loved this woman, but he would lose her someday. He ran from her for a short time after that, but soon realized that the fear of her mortality and eventual departure from him wasn’t worth missing running through life with her now.

When he faced down Satan himself in the pit, he declared that he had no religion for himself, but he believed in her.

When he asked how long she would stay with him, she promised, “Forever.” 

And if anyone could have found a way back to him after being locked in a parallel universe, it was Rose.

He continued to read the sign.

_These roses are shipped by Tyler nurserymen all over the world. The beauty of the Tyler Rose is an example of what happens when God and men work together._

Oh, how he missed the beauty of his Rose in that moment. He missed her whiskey eyes and her tongue-touched smile. He missed her blonde waves and the scent of her jasmine shampoo. He missed the soft skin of her hand in his. He missed her courageous and compassionate spirit and the music of her laughter. He missed the way they fit together in an embrace. 

His hearts broke all over again. He turned and scowled at the TARDIS. Clenching his fists, he stalked over to where she stood silent.

He pointed at the blue box. “For Rassilon’s sake, TARDIS!” He kicked the side of the blue box. “OW!” He grabbed his foot and hopped on the other. New resolve flooded him and he kicked the box again, prepared for the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his hearts thinking of Rose. “Why—“ _kick_ “did you need—“ _kick_ “to show me this?!” He yelled several expletives in Gallifreyan, punctuated with a few more kicks. 

She let him rage. She would rather him face his pain head-on and take it out on her than resort to his normal fare of brooding. She knew his potential for destructiveness when he brooded companion-less; she saw further down his time stream and knew a time would come for that. For now, he needed an outlet to get him moving again.

His strength broke and he started pounding his fists on the door, which slowed as tears spilled over and his face crinkled in sorrow. His hands unclenched and rested flatly on the blue exterior, his forehead joining them as he sobbed. He turned, wrapped his arms around his abdomen, and slid down the side of the TARDIS until he sat at the base, his face twisted in grief. He braced his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice calmly address him. “I couldn’t help but notice you were a little…upset.” 

The man to whom to voice belonged wasn’t sure how to describe his fit of rage in a more delicate way. A few visitors had stared wide-eyed, shielded their children, and took them to a different part of the capitol grounds. Somebody needed to attend to the out-of-control guest, and he was the only groundskeeper around. “How can I help you?”

The Doctor sniffled and raised his head. He saw a short, stocky man in front of him wearing jeans and a uniform polo shirt.  

“My friend,” the Doctor sobbed, and then the words wouldn’t stop. “It’s my friend. Her name was Rose Tyler, and we were together, and then I lost her, and I was lost without her, and then she found me, and then I lost her again and now she’s with my biological metacrisis in a parallel universe, and now I am alone, and my ship--“ he scowled over his shoulder, “thought it would be a good idea to bring me here to remind me of that.”

“Well…” the newcomer paused. The man on the ground by the blue box made no sense, but he was clearly grieving over the loss of someone close to him. He suspected she was more than simply his friend. “I’m Ernie. What’s your name?”

“Doctor.”

“Doctor who?”

“Just the Doctor.”

Ernie offered his hand. The Doctor took it and Ernie helped him up.

“Doctor, I understand you’ve lost somebody who means a lot to you. I don’t know about traveling in ships, but I know what it’s like to lose somebody you love.”

The corners of the Doctor’s mouth turned down as tears threatened. The mention of _love_ nearly sent him over the brink again. Ernie reached up to place a hand on his shoulder to  steady him. The Doctor put his hands in his pockets.

“My wife, Esther, died last year of cancer. Breast cancer, then she was in remission, and then it metastasized to her lymph nodes.” His voice faltered a bit, and then he recovered. “Ya know, she was from London. You sound a bit posh yourself.” The Doctor smiled. He sensed Ernie wanted to continue, so the man of many words decided to listen. 

“I met her when she took a holiday in the States 35 years ago. Started writing letters back and forth and fell in love. I was crazy about her. She moved over here and we married and had three kids. 

“She led a good life, battled for four years with the cancer, and couldn’t overcome it in the end. She was so strong, though, stronger than me. Strong for me. She was the one who left in peace with our family surrounding her. Our kids sang to her as she passed that afternoon. Me, I was a mess for days. I could hardly give a eulogy at the funeral. I was lost without her.” Ernie closed his eyes as tears prickled. “Still am sometimes.”

He continued, “Every day I wake up and I miss her so much. I keep a bottle of her perfume on my nightstand. I open it every morning so I can smell her again. It’s never gotten any easier for me, but my counselor says you can’t pressure yourself to move through your grief faster than you need to. Don’t pressure yourself, don’t be afraid to feel your grief. But you just gotta get up every day and do something, and eventually, time works its magic and I know I’ll be alright. I’ll always miss her. But I can’t wallow in my grief forever. Esther wouldn’t want that. Something tells me this Rose of yours wouldn’t want that, either.”

If Rose were here, she would hold his hand now. He ached to feel her hand in his again, instinctively closing it in his pocket. But she wasn’t here.

“Tell you what, Doctor. I’m not supposed to do this.” Ernie looked around to see if any of his supervisors were around. “I could get fired, so keep this between us.” He walked over to one of the rose bushes and clipped off a stem. He handed it to the Doctor.

The Doctor smiled softly at the pink bloom and spun it between his fingers in his right hand.

“Take this, a gift from me. Who knows, if you care for this right, maybe you could grow your own rosebush from this?”

 _Get up every day and do something,_ thought the Doctor. Maybe he would take up gardening in the next few days. Surely he had a guide in the library he could study.

And there, in the TARDIS gardens, he planted the rose cutting under the shade of a large tree. Every day he tended to it, and over time, it grew into a beautiful rosebush.

Occasionally, he visited the garden after an adventure. He’d lay his Joplin coat on the ground and lie in the shade of the tree in the TARDIS’ warm afternoon.

He talked to the blooms as if Rose were there. He told her about various adventures, like with Jackson Lake and how he had decided to stay for dinner with his family. He thought she would be proud that he was resisting the urge to be alone. He remembered in Bad Wolf Bay when she asked him if he would be on his own, and he nodded, but he knew Rose would want him to find someone, anyone, to keep him company.

He did not return to the garden after his dark turn on Mars. He was ashamed of himself. He didn’t want Rose to know what he’d done or who he’d become. 

When he told Rose that she made him better, he’d meant that with all of his hearts. He was born in battle, full of blood and anger and revenge. Her love softened his hard heart. When he lost her the first time, he was determined to travel alone, but Martha and Donna proved to him that he needed companionship to keep him from losing himself. He’d never forgotten wanting to stay and drown with the Racnoss Empress and her children. Donna pulled him back from the ledge. He knew then that he had a capacity for darkness. After the loss of his friends a second time, the hurt was too much to take anybody else with him. He would not suffer any more. Of course, he broke that promise to himself a few times, because he knew deep down that companionship was essential for him, and because the TARDIS led him to people that were right for the time. It eased the pain of loneliness a bit and kept him on his toes.

When he landed on Mars, when he realized he was on Bowie Base One, his time senses told him to run. The events of the space station were fixed; the Laws of Time prevented him from interfering in fixed historical events. He knew the impending tragedy propelled the human race further into space. He even told Adelaide the future of her granddaughter’s voyage to the stars to give her consolation for her impending death, and to ease his own conscience in the choice he’d need to make to leave the crew behind to die.

With renewed hope that none of the other crew were infected and they could escape in the rocket, Adelaide thrust the Doctor’s space suit into his hands and told him to shove off while she saved her crew. Hope drained from his face as he watched them frantically gather supplies for the trip home. He knew their efforts were futile, while he held his way of escape. 

He flashed back to Pompeii _…his horror as he realized that it was him who caused the volcano to erupt. His aching hearts as he pushed down the lever._

_Ash and smoke devoured the town. People ran, looking for safety._

_Donna screamed as they ran through the streets, frantically trying to save anyone who would listen. She couldn’t even save the child as he was scooped up by his mother._

_Caecilius’ family huddled on the floor of the villa. They pleaded with him. He turned away, guilt racking his body with every step he ran back to the TARDIS. No way of escape for them. The whole town would die at his hand. Even knowledge that he was saving the Earth from the Pyroviles was no consolation in that moment for the loss of thousands of people._

_“You can’t just leave them!” Donna shouted once she was on board._

_“Don't you think I've done enough? History's back in place and everyone dies,” he said spitefully toward himself._

_“You've got to go back! Doctor, I'm telling you, take this thing back!” she demanded._

_He flipped a lever and the TARDIS shuddered in flight._

_Donna circled around to the Doctor. Then she pleaded quietly, “It's not fair.” It wasn’t fair that they could leave, but the people of Pompeii could not._

_“No, it’s not.”_

_“But your own planet...it burned,” she spoke around sobs._

_“That's just it. Don't you see, Donna? Can't you understand? If I could go back and save them then I would, but I can't.” Outwardly, he was speaking about the volcano, but his guilt was about more than Popmpeii. He saw flashes of the war, his family, his friends on Gallifrey. He couldn’t save them from the Moment. It was necessary to save the universe in light of the horrors of what the Time Lords had become and the destruction of the Daleks. “I can never go back, I can't. I just can't, I can't.” His head bowed in shame and fiddled with the controls of the console for a distraction._

A warning beep from the Dome’s module sensors snapped him back to reality. He glanced at the ceiling. He watched the two red dots approach the Central Dome. The crew continued to frantically gather supplies. Normally he would have jumped in to help, and gladly, but Time told him not to. Their death was imminent.

Only too late did Captain Adelaide notice the beeping. 

He mouthed the words as Steffi realized out loud, “They’re on the roof.” 

Once again, the Doctor would live. Once again, more humans in his path would die, remarkable humans. None of them deserved to die. 

He could do nothing to change it.

And it gnawed at him.

He swallowed hard as he watched the crew realize with horror that their chances of escaping were eroding away. The sound of water creaking through the maintenance systems in the ceiling made his stomach turn. He felt helpless as Adelaide redirected her crew to continue loading the ship. He knew she would eventually have to make the decision to detonate the base.

And he would live. He would get in his TARDIS and leave them to die.

Time seemed to slow around him as he locked eyes with Adelaide one more time and turned to leave. His head hung with shame as he walked out the door.

Spacesuit on and the weight of the fixed timeline pressing on him to leave, he touched the screen to open the airlock, but it would not grant him access.

Adelaide’s voice came over the comm. “Tell me what happens.” 

“I don’t know,” he lied.

“Yes, you do. Now tell me.”

“You should be with the others.”

“Tell me!” she demanded. She waited. “I could ramp up the pressure in that airlock and kill you.”

“Except you won't.” He knew a bluff when he saw one. But he also knew that he owed her something, answers. “You could have shot Andy Stone, but you didn't. I loved you for that.” He searched for anything he could tell her to help her understand the choice he was making. “Imagine... Imagine you knew something. Imagine you found yourself somewhere, I don't know, Pompeii. Imagine you were in Pompeii.”

“What the hell's that got to do with it?” she interrupted.

“And you tried to save them, but, in doing so, you make it happen. Anything I do just makes it happen.”

Steffi opened the glass door. “Captain, we need you right now.” The glass door slid again, and the Doctor waited.

“I’m still here.” Still looking for answers.

He turned towards the camera so she could see his face. “You're taking Action One. There are four more standard action procedures. And Action Five is...?”

“Detonation.”

His voice stayed calm, not wanting to betray the anguish he felt. “The final option. The nuclear device at the heart of the Central Dome. Today, on the 21st November 2059, Captain Brooke activates that device, taking the base and all her crew members with her. No one ever knows why. But you were saving Earth. That's what inspires your granddaughter. She takes your people out into the galaxy, because you die, on Mars. You die, today. She flies out there like she's trying to meet you.”

“I won’t die. I will not.” He sympathized with her resoluteness.

“But your death creates the future.”

She trembled. “Help me.”

_Donna’s voice pleaded with him one more time. “Just someone, please.”_

“Why won’t you help, Doctor?”

_“Not the whole town. Just save someone.”_

“If you know all of this, why can’t you change it?”

_His eyes finally rose to see Donna’s tear-streaked face. Maybe there was hope here. Maybe he could save someone._

“I can’t.” _Not here. I can’t help this time._

“Why can’t you find a way?” she continued to argue. “Tell me, I don’t know, show me—“

“Adelaide, I swear, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.” His words cut her off. “Sometimes I can, sometimes I do. Most times, I can save someone. Or anyone. But not you. You wondered all your life why that Dalek spared you. I think it knew. Your death is fixed, in time, forever. And that's right.”

“You’ll die here, too.” 

“No,” he answered softly. _And that isn’t fair to you, I know._

“What’s going to save you?”

“Captain Adelaide Brooke.”

Captain Adelaide Brooke sighed in resignation.

Captain Adelaide Brooke granted him access out of the air lock. 

“Damn you.”

_I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._

He stayed in the airlock for a moment. All he could do was listen to the frantic conversation.

“Water! We’ve got water!” Roman yelled.

_Help me. Why won’t you help, Doctor?_

“Yuri, lead the way. Section B corridor now!” Adelaide directed. 

Yuri stared as water poured from the ceiling in the corridor with the food.

“Yuri, did that water touch you?!”

_If you know all of this, why can’t you change it? Why can’t you find a way?_

“We’ll make our way out through Section F.” “Mia, you take the redline stock! And hurry up!”

Water poured in from between the ceiling panels. Steffi was cut off.

“Steffi get back!”

_You’ll die here, too._

“Screen! Use the screen!” “Close the door!” “Steffi, we’ll come get you, ok? We’ll come get you!”

“Captain, it’s inside!”

_What’s going to save you?_

He could bear it no longer. He exited the airlock. 

“We’re coming Steffi! Hold on!” “The outer panel’s fused, Captain! We can’t open it.” “We can’t get through!” 

“I can’t move!” Steffi’s words stung his ears.

He walked away from Bowie Base One. The door sealed behind him.

_Damn you._

He heard the child’s voice. He heard the water spray intensify. He heard Steffi’s sobs.

Steffi was infected. Steffi turned around to the crew. Steffi approached to infect them as well.

He continued walking away.

“Just one drop,” Roman said. It trailed down his cheek like a tear.

The Doctor closed his eyes in agony. 

“We can’t leave him! Let me go! Roman!” Mia was hysterical.

He knew the pain she felt, the loss.  
He continued walking away.

Ed. “Captain. The shuttle is down.” Maggie had reached him and he started to turn. There was only one option left to defend Earth. 

“Hated it, Adelaide. This whole bloody job. You never gave me a chance.” He heard Ed’s labored breathing. 

The Doctor slowed with every step, chest heaving.

“You never could forgive me,” Ed continued. “See you later.”

The shuttle exploded.

The impact sent the Doctor flying.

The debris breached the exterior of the Central Dome.  

_Enough._

A realization washed over him as he stared at the wreckage. His own words played through his mind.

_“I’m not just a Time Lord, I’m the last of the Time Lords.” “They’ll never come back, not now.” “I’ve got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.” “And they died and took it all with them. The walls of reality closed, the worlds were sealed.” “But they died, the Time Lords! All of them, they died!”_

_“I’m the last of the Time Lords.”_

_Enough._

Enough loss. Enough losing the people he loves. Enough mourning the loss of his people. Enough listening to these people die while he escapes and continues living. Enough guilt.

He would lose no more.

He would save the crew. Then he would go find Rose. He would find a way to bring back Donna’s memory. He would refuse to regenerate for as long as he could. Hell, he might even venture to bring the Time Lords back.

He’d faced this temptation before with the Skasis Paradigm. Sarah Jane had stopped him then, reminding him that loss is part of life and helps to shape us all.

But he would not stop now. After all, he’d saved the universe so many times. What had it done for him, but taken everything he loved? He deserved more. He deserved better.

His anger consumed him.

He stormed into the Dome, with all of his Time Lord swagger, manically taking charge, barking out orders to Mia and Yuri, and they secured the dome.

“That’s better!” He paced like a tiger in a cage, daring someone to let him out. “The Dome’s still got integrity! Ten feet of steel combination, made in Liverpool, magnificent workmanship!”

“It can’t be stopped. Don’t die with us,” Adelaide pleaded.

“No,” his jaw squarely set, his eyes wide with determination. “Because someone told me just recently, they said I was gonna to die. They said he would knock four times and I think I know what that means. And it doesn’t mean right here, right now. ‘Cause I don’t hear anyone knocking, do you?”

_BANG._

His eyes flew to the door. Infected Andrew stood menacingly on the other side.

_BANG. BANG._

“Three knocks is all you’re getting!” He turned to activate the electricity connections on the door, and the creature screamed in agony. “Water and electricity. Bad mix! Now, what else have we got?” His mind searched frantically, his body still paced the floor. 

“But there’s no way to fight them!” Adelaide tried to reason.

“Heat! They use water, so we can use heat!” He raced around the room to activate the controls. “Worked against the Ice Warriors, worked against the flood. Ramp up the environment controls and steam them!”

“But you said we die! For the future, for the human race!” Adelaide began to see that he would not stop.

“Yes, because there are laws. There are Laws of Time. Once upon a time there were people in charge of those laws, but they died. They all died.” His voice rose with intensity. “Do you know who that leaves? Me! It's taken me all these years to realise the Laws of Time are mine and they will obey me!” he roared. The base shuddered and he lost his footing.

“Environment controls are down. Sorry, Doctor, it looks like history has other ideas.” Adelaide said resolutely.

His rebellion at the fixed timeline made him feel nauseated, but he refused to give up.

“Not beaten yet.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll go outside!” He raced for his helmet, but discovered the glass was broken from the fall. His determination rose even more. “Not beaten, not beaten!” and he chucked the helmet across the room. His eyes were wide and he pointed at Adelaide. “You’ve got space suits in the next section!” He rounded the corner to find water pouring from the ceiling.

His time sense screamed at him. But he would not lose. He would not die here, and neither would the remaining crew.

“We’re not just fighting the flood, we’re fighting time itself!” He pounded his chest and roared. “And I’m gonna win!”

He manically searched the room. He felt timelines bending and twisting, all gnarled like an old oak tree, which left his head throbbing. But he was the cleverest of all the beings in the universe. He would find the solution.

Gadget Gadget in Storage F! He slipped his TARDIS key in the robot’s grip, and he felt the time line snap. He was rewriting history. 

Adelaide was no Time Lord or Lady, but even she felt the timelines bending around her and shuddered. _This isn’t right. He needs someone to stop him._ She turned to the computer and activated the nuclear device.

Suddenly, he felt Time fighting back to repair itself. “Implementing Captain’s Protocol,” the computer called out.

“Adelaide, what are you doing? If I have to fight you as well, I will,” he warned. He was reckless.

“Nuclear device now active and primed,” the computer called out. Time buckled, trying to shift the lines back into their proper order.

But he refused to lose and bucked against Time. He soniced the robot’s controls to activate the boosters.

Time shifted out of place again and he roared, “FASTER!”

Adelaide felt Time shifting around her a second time, and fell to the floor from the nausea as the base shuddered. The Doctor saw her pain, and he didn’t care.

He triumphantly scoffed at Time as Gadget inserted the key and flipped switches and punched in coordinates on the console. Gadget flipped the lever and the central column groaned. 

The lights of the TARDIS flashed as she materialized in the Central Dome, and the Doctor triumphantly strode to his machine. He had wrestled with Time. He won. 

He beat Time itself.

On Earth, the TARDIS materialized in a quiet, snowy London street. The Doctor opened the door and smugly stepped into the cool night air, quite chuffed to bits with himself.

His companions were silent. Everything felt wrong to them.

The Doctor grew impatient and finally spoke. “Isn’t anyone going to thank me?” All those years of saving the universe and never receiving anything from it in return…didn’t these people know what he just did for them? Gave them a new chance to live their lives? Wasn’t he magnificent?

Gadget rolled out of the TARDIS and shut down. “He’s lost his signal. Doesn’t know where he is,” he mused.

Adelaide stared in disbelief. “That’s my house.”

He was aghast. “Don’t you get it? This is the 21st of November, 2059. It’s the same day on Earth.” Humans, so small-minded sometimes, but he would open their minds. “And it’s snowing! I love snow.” He looked up at the sky in delight.

Mia was still recovering from the feeling of her own shifted time line. She wasn’t even supposed to be there. She pointed at the TARDIS and struggled for words. “What is that thing? It’s…bigger…I mean, it’s bigger on the inside!”

Normally, when people said that, it was with wonder. He was not amused when it was said not in wonder, but in confusion and appall. 

“Who the hell are you?” she asked. She turned and ran. 

Yuri made to follow her, and looked at his captain.

“Look after her,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” He took off.

They didn’t understand. If they weren’t grateful enough to understand the new life he’d given them, then maybe they weren’t important enough for second chances anyway. Adelaide, though, would appreciate the opportunity to watch her granddaughter push towards the stars, he was sure.

He looked at her and her anger bubbled with every step she took towards him. “You saved us.”

He confidently strode towards her. “Just think, though. Your daughter and your daughter’s daughter, you can see them again. Family reunion.” He had suffered that loss enough himself. He just wanted to give the chance to avoid that loss to someone else. He wanted to give someone else hope where the universe had failed to give him any.

She shook her head. “But I’m supposed to be dead.” The timeline still felt wrong. 

“Not anymore.”

“But…Susie, my granddaughter.  The person she’s supposed to become might never exist now.”

“Nah! Captain Adelaide can inspire her face-to-face. Different details, but the story’s the same,” he reasoned.

“You can’t know that. And if my family changes, the whole of history could change! The future of the human race! No one should have that power.”

His eyes grew dark. “Tough.”

Adelaide felt sick and she took a step back, Time still pressing on her. “You should have left us there.” 

“Adelaide, I’ve done this sort of thing before. In small ways, saved some little people.” He was arrogant. The power he felt over Time swelled up within him. “But never someone as important as you. Oh, I’m good!” 

“Little people? What, like Mia and Yuri? Who decides they’re so unimportant? You?” she spat. 

“For a long time now, I thought I was just a survivor, but I'm not. I'm the winner. That's who I am. The Time Lord Victorious.” He declared himself a god over Time itself.

“And there’s no one to stop you?”

“No.”

“This is wrong, Doctor. I don’t care who you are. The Time Lord Victorious is wrong.”

“That’s for me to decide.” 

They stared at one another.

“Now, you’d better better get home.” He turned to look at her door, and then back at Adelaide, smugness radiating from him. “Oh, it’s all locked up. You’ve been away. Still, that’s easy.” He reached in his coat pocket and produced the sonic. He pointed it at the door, which unlocked and opened for her. “All yours.” Time and the universe had been unkind to him. Now they would obey him, and so would she.

“Is there nothing you can’t do?” she paused as she strode past him.

“Not anymore.”  

He turned to watch Adelaide walk to her door. Satisfied, he turned towards the TARDIS.

Adelaide removed the gun from her holster. None of this was right. She watched the Time Lord Victorious walk triumphantly to his ship. Her death was no longer just for her granddaughter to propel the human race forward. She needed to stop him for the sake of the universe. She closed the door.

He heard the shot of the blaster and turned. Timelines shifted in his mind, and he staggered and leaned back against the door of the TARDIS.

She died anyway. He had only wanted to save her, but Time said otherwise. He failed. He lost.

Adelaide’s words played in his mind.

_I don’t care who you are. The Time Lord Victorious is wrong._

Shame overwhelmed him in place of his madness. This wasn’t who he was supposed to be. This wasn’t the Doctor.

He felt a new presence with him, and he turned to see Ood Sigma standing further down the street.

“I’ve gone too far.” He fell to his knees. “Is this it?” Fear clutched his hearts. “My death?” He felt Ood Sigma’s call to follow him. “Is it time?” Ood Sigma faded from view.

The weight of Time pressed on his shoulders, re-exerting its hold on him. He retreated in fear into the TARDIS.

At the console, he heard the cloister bells of the TARDIS ringing. Eternity was coming for him, he knew. 

_Eternity, you will not have me yet._

“No.”

From then on, he ran from his destiny until it overtook him in the radiation chamber.

After watching Donna’s wedding from afar, he was hardly able to hold his regeneration back any longer. His stomach lurched, and he caught himself on the handrails of the console room, and then walked to the console and threw them into the vortex. He headed down the corridor. He needed to see his roses one last time before they would be destroyed in the regeneration of the TARDIS.

He stopped. No, he would not be content to see his roses. He needed to see his Rose. 

_Oh, Time, give me this final reward,_ he pleaded.

Somehow he managed to find the strength to make it back to the console room. He felt his core warming. “No, no, no, please!” he grimaced in pain and gripped the side of the console.

He felt the mental embrace of the TARDIS, which provided some strength, and he willed himself to dial in some coordinates and flipped the lever. _Please, old girl,_ he pleaded. _Take me to see Rose._ He braced himself on the side of the console again and closed his eyes.

After the landing _thud_ , he slowly walked down the grating. He stopped at the doors. He looked at the white paint, felt the grain under his hand. “Last time going out through these.”

Solemn-faced, he took a deep breath. The familiar _creak_ gave way to cold air and a snowy street. He looked up into the night sky and the snowflakes landed gently on his face. He welcomed the cool they offered as they melted on his warm skin.

He slowly walked out into the square. Memories flooded him: following the sonic to Rose’s cat flap; holding Rose’s hand as he explained the turn of the universe and seeing the wonder in her eyes; noticing the missing poster of Rose; clipping the corner of one of the buildings as he crash landed during his regeneration, which never really was fixed, and they would laugh every time they saw it; walking with Rose and Jackie after Mickey called them to meet him at the art museum; walking hand in hand with Rose to visit Jackie before Canary Wharf. 

He heard feet crunching through the snow around the corner. He found a different corner to conceal himself.

“Late now, I’ve missed it. Mickey’ll be calling me everything. This is your fault!”

That voice. His hearts sped in anticipation.

“No, it’s not. It's Jimbo! He said he was going to give us a lift, then he said his axle broke. I can't help it,” Jackie returned.

He closed his eyes and danced in his mind to the music of her voice as she and Jackie conversed in the cold.

“Happy New Year!” Jackie’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Happy New Year!” He could hear the smile in Rose’s voice, and he forgot all of his pain.

“Don’t stay out all night,” Rose admonished, and Jackie replied, “Try and stop me!”

Footsteps approached, and his hearts pounded and clenched when he saw her round the corner. He froze, taking in the sight of his Rose. 

His stomach heaved at the exertion of his emotions and he had to brace himself on the door, stifling a groan.

Rose startled. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. He recovered enough to look at her again.

Her whiskey eyes were amused and compassionate. “Too much to drink?” 

“Yeah, something like that,” he weakly offered. He gazed at her, drinking in the curve of her half smile, the line of her jaw that he had cupped so many times.

“Maybe it’s time you went home.”

_Rose Tyler, you are my home._

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Anyway, Happy New Year.” She smiled, and turned away as he offered, “And you.”

_Please, don’t go, Rose. Please, let me see your face and hear your voice one more time._

He reached for anything that would cause her to turn around, anything for her to linger. “What year is this?” _Habits of a time traveler,_ he supposed.

“Blimey,” she giggled, “how much have you had?”

 _Not enough of you, Rose._ “Well,” he responded.

“2005, January the first.” 

His hearts welled up again. “2005?” She nodded. He sent a thank you to the TARDIS, and tears started forming in his eyes.

“Tell you what,” he offered, and her face softened at his sudden emotion. “I bet you’re going to have a really great year.”

She smiled as she heard the warmth and genuineness in his voice. “Yeah?”

She could barely make out his smile in the darkness. She coyly turned and smiled at him. “See ya,” she said, and he didn’t miss the hope in her voice. 

He couldn’t speak as he watched her turn and run towards Bucknall House.

He would see her again soon, in the basement of Henrick’s, all ears and leather.

_And I’ll take your hand and say, ‘Run’, and we’ll never stop._

He didn’t miss her turn to glance at him once more before she headed up the stairs.

His eyes became thick with tears as his Rose disappeared from sight. His final reward.

His whole body lurched with pain and he staggered around the corner. His vision blurred. Every step wracked more pain through his body. He collapsed. He willed his body to move, but it just wouldn’t.

His TARDIS enveloped him once more with her presence to ease the pain, and a song swept over his consciousness.

“We will sing to you, Doctor. The universe will sing you to your sleep.” He saw the Ood standing before him. He felt a deeper connection to the universe as the Ood on distant planets surrounded him with their music.

He stood and grimaced with pain, but he could move, and he triumphantly stumbled to the TARDIS. He would not go gently into this good night.

“This song is ending, but the story never ends,” the Ood said.

He reached the door, and for the last time he unlocked the blue doors. The Ood song continued in his mind as he leaned against the interior.

He hesitated before gazing at his TARDIS for the last time. Bracing himself on the handrails, he made his way to the console and didn’t need to look when he tossed his coat on the coral strut.

He felt his hand tingling and watched as the regeneration energy radiated from his skin, and then looked at the console. He projected his gratitude with every tender touch as he steadied himself and circled around to the controls. _Thank you,_ he sent to her. He sent them into orbit around Earth. Her groaning and the rise and fall of the central column was her thanks in response and comfort for his weary soul.

He circled around the console once more, each step taken with trepidation, chest heaving. 

“I don’t want to go,” he said with desperation, clinging to the love for life he felt in this body.

He felt his core’s resolve dissolve, and regeneration energy flowed through his body. His arms raised to shoulder height.

And his body thrusted. He burned hotter than the sun. Sparks rained down around him and the coral struts crashed to the ground.

As he looked up, he saw a face through the flames. It became clearer, more focused, as more radiation leaked from his body, the fiery eyes of the Bad Wolf and the soft smile he’d know anywhere. He felt a gentle hand reach down to cup his jaw.

_Be brave, my Doctor. Let go. Rest._

He exhaled and closed his eyes for the final time.


End file.
